An Aire Bout Central Air

Far moost o' me three score minus one year tethered upon terra firmae where planet Earth doth veer (spins upon the global axis (tilted 23.5 degrees from the plane of its orbit around the sun), terrestrial genesis (perhaps accompanied for Pete's sake by Gabriel blowing his horn) in all honesty unclear boot more oven concern points to thermonuclear and/or subnuclear war, particularly at forefront of thine primate noggin actively hypothesizing theoretical armageddon, when non plus ultra gravitates with e pluribus unum necessitating each individual to bend over and kiss his/her rear goodbye unless total merciless ***** hue loss atomic fallout immediately incinerates e'en the moost savvy profiteer, which aforementioned prognostication arose from overbear ring hazy, hot and humid dangerous heat spell near lee approximating insufferable temperature nearing triple digits (along Eastern Seaboard of United baked States makes this human, an immediate convert to climate control (though he happened tubby already) basking, glorifying, and luxuriating within delightful 60º Fahrenheit mere really expressing gratitude for such creature comfort donning my stretched out birthday suit, (yet thee moost comfortable leisurewear then thrift store "special bag mountain of clothes as mooch as Yukon sales," no matter mine ill mannered mirrored reflection doth jeer at such a sorry sight, and/or laugh reading interlinear monologue colloquy, which message gleaned between lines, and should this poem be red aloud, thy orgasmic passion linkedin with humming HVAC, ye would hear courtesy hove cochlear (hollow tube in the inner ear) sensitive to deafening sounds...so beware!